


The Snow

by vici_diem



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Legend - Fandom, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Christmas, Death, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 03:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12974682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vici_diem/pseuds/vici_diem
Summary: A cute imagine when you found out he's alive after dying in his human form.





	The Snow

You stomp your boots on the snowy path, feeling your leg being buried deep inside at every step. You try not to wince at the sight of your boots getting drenched at the amount of snow it was buried in. It was an expensive boots given to you by your grandparents for Christmas, and you cursed yourself for your short-sightedness. 

The snow falls heavily to your head, like a soft light rain. You stop and look up, smiling at the sight of snowflakes dancing from the sky. If only your phone’s camera could capture this view right now. The dancing snowflakes from the sky, landing on the branches of the trees and onto the ground. You wonder how long this would last and hope that it will never do. 

Shoving your gloved hands into your pockets, you walk through the leafless trees, admiring the beauty. You had always loved the winter, especially when it snows, though most people find it depressing. There is just something about curling by the fire with a good book and a cup of hot chocolate, staring at the white view from the window. 

Once you reach your destination, you stop, sighing at the amount of snow covering the headstone. You carefully stomp through the snow, trying not to trip and fall. The headstone is standing under an oak tree that had lost its leaves during autumn and is now covered with snow. 

Kneeling on the ground, uncaring of the cold and wetness that is seeping through your jeans, you wipe the snow off of the headstone. You continue cleaning it to the point that the letters can be read. You stare at it, tracing the curves of the letters, wondering where he could be right now. He would’ve loved the snow. He would’ve made sure you didn’t trip and fall on your butt in the slippery ice. You can feel the corner of your lips twisting at the thought. 

“Cher?” a familiar voice called out and your finger freeze at the letter ‘h’. 

“Is that you?” he asked and you could feel your chest stop beating for a moment. Your eyes are starting to well up as you shake your head with disbelief. There is no way. It’s not possible. You’ve seen him dead. Hell, you had held his dying body. 

You close your eyes, shaking your head from side to side as you held onto the headstone for support. You must be imagining things. For these things only happen in movies. There is no way. 

“Cher, it’s me.”

You take off your gloves despite the cold, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before putting it back on. You ignore the voice that seems to get louder and louder, calling out your name. You made a mental note to consult a psychotherapist when you’ve got the time. The grief is starting to eating at you. 

Suddenly, a strong force caused you to fall to the back. You fell onto the snow, your beanie landing a few feet away from your head as you look up at his eyes. His dark brown eyes. You must’ve been dreaming again. You reach your hand up to touch his cheek and he winces from the cold, but he didn’t move away. Both of you are staring at each other with shocked eyes. 

“You’re not real.” you said out loud, your index finger poking the tip of his nose, just like how you used to.

He grabs your finger, then uses it to poke your forehead, causing you to flinch, saying, “You dumb-dumb, then who’s lying on top of you?”

“Anybody but Thanatos.” you replied, closing your eyes tightly, shaking your head once more as if your head is some Magic 8 Ball. You flash open your eyes, only to find hims staring down at you with one of his eyebrows raised. 

“Do I look real enough now?” he asked. 

“You have a scruff. He was clean-shaven.” you said, rubbing your hands over it, as if the harder you rub it, the faster he will disappear. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop it, it hurts!” he said, jumping away from you and massaging his scruff with his barehands. 

You sit up, scoffing at the sight, muttering, “Even in my imagination you’re as annoying as ever.” 

You get up, brushing the snow off of your clothes. You pick up your beanie, flapping it in the air, letting the snow fall to the ground. You put it back on, tucking your ears under it and continue stomping against the snow towards the trail out of the forrest. 

You feel a hand touching your shoulder and you immediately turn, only to find him staring back at you once again. He’s dressed in a black winter coat, with a black turtleneck underneath and dark blue jeans and brown boots. Even in death, he looks annoyingly handsome. 

His dimples are showing as he flashes you one of his guilty smiles. There’s snow covering his hair and you itched to brush it off of him. But by doing so, you’d be conforming to your hallucinations. 

“Cher! It’s me, your annoyingly good-looking boyfriend.”

“You’re dead.” you replied, about to turn around, before he caught the crook of your arm and pulled you against him. 

You ‘oofed’ as your chest bumps onto his and you could feel his arms wrapping you tight against him. He rest his chin against your shoulder, whispering, “I’m back.”

As if to prove his point, you could feel his heart beating against yours. It sounds cheesy just by the thought of it but it’s there. Goosebumps raising on your skin, tingling your spine. It’s as if your body’s coming back to life at those two words. Is he really back? What does it mean?

“But you’re dead.” you argued, still not believing that it’s really him. 

“I’m the god of death. If anyone could cheat death, it’d probably be…” he trailed off, trying to lead me to the right train of thought. 

“It’d be you.” you finished it for him, raising your head to look at him. 

He still looks the same as he was when he was human. The same dimples. The same mischievous glint in his eyes. And that devastating smile. 

He pulls you closer to him, as if there was some invisible distance between you both. You smile, brushing snow off of his hair. He laughs at your gesture. 

“Then where were you all these months? I was like a walking dead, trying to find the will to live.”

“There are some few businesses that I have to deal with back in the Underworld. But I’m here now.” he explained, tucking your beanie lower to protect your ears from the cold. “Besides, I’d want you to live the best life you can before you’d join me down there.”

You put your arms around his neck, taking off your gloves and dropping it behind him. Without even moving a muscle, he caught it, letting it hang in the air like some magic trick. You raise your eyebrows at the sight of your gloves floating amidst the snow, then broke into a laugh as you cup his cheeks. 

“Will you be there with me, though? The deal’s off if I have to live out my days alone, or with another guy. Just imagine, him experiencing things that you would’ve experienced…” 

“And that is why I’m back from the dead.” he replied, his eyes suddenly filled with horror at the image. 

“You’re not that honourable, are you?” you teased, poking the tip of his nose with your finger. 

“You love me that way.” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead instead of poking it like how he always does. Just because he’s way older than you. The thought of bringing home an ancient man to meet your parents tickles your insides. 

“I’m 23 years old.” he declared. “I look and feel 23. It’s a good number.” 

You laugh, placing a kiss on his lips, telling him, “Yes, yes you are.” even though you know otherwise. But none of you cared, as he deepens the kiss.

“We should get back to the car, where did you park?” he asked, suddenly breaking away from you, both his hands on your shoulders. 

“A few minutes walk from here.”

“Ah, it’s getting freezing up here.” he said, putting an arm over your shoulder and gathering you close. You laugh, putting an arm around his waist. With a flick of his fingers, your gloves are back on your hands. It seems warmer as well, as if he had installed invisible hand-warmers within the fabric. 

“How much did you miss me by the way?” he asked, as you both make you way through the snowy forrest. 

“Not at all actually. Barely even register you’re missing.” 

“Liar.” he replied and you both laughed, making your way towards the car.


End file.
